After Christmas
by DimariS
Summary: Stephanie's in a post holiday blue mood and the only way to go is up. It could happen. All recognizable characters are the property of JE; I'm just taking them out for a spin.
1. Chapter 1 - Reliving the Day

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 1 – Reliving the Day

The day after Christmas found me drinking a cup of eggnog at the dining table in my little apartment. I love eggnog; it's loaded with two of my favorite things: sugar and fat. What's not to love? Peering out the window overlooking the parking lot with its dirty patches of snow, I reflected on yesterday.

For years my standard Christmas revolved around attending Midnight Mass with my family, opening gifts under the tree, watching the "Miracle on 34th Street" with my dad and grandma, and helping my mother and sister make cookies in the kitchen. They won't let me help with anything else since my culinary skills are nonexistent. I can, however, put a serious dent in whatever they make. My eating skills are outstanding!

This year, like every other, I had just enough money to give my parents, my sister, her husband and my nieces little gifts I thought they would enjoy. It wasn't much but I had saved up to get Mom a little bottle of Chanel #5 cologne; Dad a pack of Dutch Masters cigars; my sister Valerie some lilac shower gel; her husband Albert a coffee mug with "Attorneys Are Ace Arguers" painted on the outside; my niece Angie a little book on European cities and, finally, my niece Mary Alice a picture book of horses. MA still thinks she's a horse.

When I opened my presents it was hard to exclaim surprise about the blue sweater from Mom, New York Rangers sweatshirt from Dad, pink flannel nightgown from Valerie, and the box of chocolates from Albert and the girls. Certainly I'm thankful for their gifts and know other people don't even have presents at all; but I really would just like a little surprise. Not much, just something different would be great. Heck, I'd even take a New York Jets t-shirt to break up my wardrobe, such as it is. Geez, I sound like such an ingrate.

It would be so nice to have someone here to drink eggnog with and help me take down my scraggly little Christmas tree. There's Joe Morelli but we always break up around Thanksgiving. I think it's so he doesn't have to buy me a gift. Of course I can always count on him to show up horny a couple of days after the New Year with a pizza. What can I say, it's our "relationship" otherwise known as friends with benefits. He says he loves me and he's a good friend but I don't think I want to make a life with him.

Another man I spend time with is Carlos Manoso otherwise known as Ranger. Okay, I'll admit it, I'm in love with Ranger; but he doesn't do "relationships" so I keep how I feel to myself. Loving him is kinda like loving Jon Bon Jovi; it's great to dream about but you know it isn't going anywhere. He sent me a poinsettia plant or maybe I should say his housekeeper Ella sent me the plant. People who know me well wouldn't waste their money. I can kill a plant just by staring at it and would die of starvation if I had to grow my own food. Today Ranger is probably in Miami visiting with his daughter from a previous marriage; or, now I could be wrong, he's in outer Slobovia directing a coup.

Both men are great looking, sexy and cocky as hell. Joe likes me to spend time at his house, eat Pino's Italian food, watch a game on TV, and have athletic sex. It doesn't matter whether it's pizza or subs, hockey or football, and which position. The most interesting thing is the combination. Ranger, on the other hand, likes to drop in unannounced, make me go running, kiss me stupid, and watch me sleep. He doesn't think I know about that last one but I've caught a glimpse of him sitting in my bedroom chair. Beyond that I haven't a clue what he likes.

Since the day doesn't look too promising and I can't go to Point Pleasant, I might as well work on my New Years resolutions. Wish I could go out for the day but first off it's too damn cold and second Point Pleasant is a pile of rubble thanks to Hurricane Sandy.

Soooooo the resolutions. I usually just make the same ones every year. Why not? I don't keep 'em anyway. Let's see there's _lose weight._ After all, the only cute clothes come in size 7 or below. Going down three dress sizes ought to be doable, right? Next is _learn to make pizza. _I spend way too much money at Pino's. Does that count as learning to cook? It will make Mom so proud. Then there's _decorate my apartment._ People might take me more seriously if I upgrade the dorm room look. Of course I really don't know if anything can be done for my orange-y shit brown bathroom short of demolition. Finally, _decide which man is right for me_ because confusion is tiring and you can't plan worth a damn.

Maybe I should make new ones…some I can keep like take running with Ranger more seriously which would work on the lose weight thing. Or maybe learn to make a healthy meal _and_ pizza. That might help me lose pounds too. Decorating this place shouldn't be too hard if I take one room at a time after all there's only three. I'll start with the bedroom. Ranger might take me more seriously if I make some positive changes. Hmm. Ranger. Guess I made a decision…one down…maybe. Now that I've given myself a headache with all these life changing ideas I think I'll turn in and dream of giving up Tastykakes and Boston Crèmes and birthday cake…

Holiday depression just sucks. At least next Tuesday I can look forward to watching the New Year's Day parades, chowing down on leftovers and sex at the end of the week. Wow!

TBC


	2. Chapter 2 - A Little Surprise

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 2 – A Little Surprise

Crawling out of bed the next morning I decide it's time to move on so I throw on some clothes and head downstairs to check the mail. Best get the bills in order so I know how much money I need to make in the next two weeks. Yeah, that'll cure the depression.

Opening the box a few envelopes fell on the floor. It looked to be a few Christmas cards, my credit card bill – yikes – and a brochure from Victoria Secret. V.S. is my personal weakness hence the credit card bill from hell. Guess I should have checked my mail last week, huh? There was a card from my ex-ho friend, Lula, in hot pink and lime green saying "Season's Greetings, hope you get some," a card with a ripped stud in a Santa hat from Connie who is the office manager at my cousin's bail bonds company. She had included a gift card from Tasty Pastry, my other weakness. They make the best Boston crèmes in town and I better hurry up and use it because I just resolved to swear off after the first of the year. Think I could mainline donuts, Tastykakes and birthday cake for the next four days without going into a diabetic coma? Sure. Piece of cake.

Finally, there is a white envelope with no return address. It looks engraved. After returning to my apartment, I carefully open the card then my chin fell on the floor as I dropped onto the sofa. It said "You are cordially invited a New Year's Eve gala to celebrate the reuniting of Princeton Township and Princeton Borough in Princeton, New Jersey, on December 31, 2012, at 8:00 pm." There is no signature. Wait, where in Princeton? Is this my surprise?

It's more than a little worrisome that there's no inviter. I tend to attract scary people who want to harm me or worse. That would be because of my job as a fugitive apprehension agent aka bounty hunter for Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. Suffice it to say my skills aren't too hot, but my luck and intuition sorta make up for them.

Okay, let's try to be positive for a second just to be different. What the hell am I supposed to wear to this shindig? Jeans and a Rangers sweatshirt are probably out. I have sexy underwear but the rest of the wardrobe is pretty much decimated thanks to my job and no money. During the holidays lawbreakers keep their court dates mostly to stay indoors. So, no skips means no money.

While sitting on the couch mentally running through my closet I hear a knock. Pulling myself upright I shuffle to the door to find no one there, just a big box on the hall floor. There's nothing written on the box and it's really cumbersome so I drag it over to the sofa. Before I open it I pray there isn't a bomb or body part; that much of a surprise I really don't need. Sad to say I have been the terrified recipient of both in the past. Do not want to experience them again or overgrown rabbits or snakes on the door handle or midgets, sorry make that little people, in my closet or…you get the idea.

When I open it there is a lot of tissue paper and a small card that says "For the Party. Chauffeur will arrive at 6:30 pm." Okay, guess I don't need an address. Inside I find a pair of shoes, a handbag and a fancy gown. Now, for the record, these are way beyond what I could ever afford. All the items are Gucci, as in real Gucci, not knockoffs. Staring at the contents I forget to breathe for a long, long time. As my vision clears, I'm wondering who would give me something like this. If they know me at all, they'd know I would just ruin them. Hey, I can't help it, I'm clumsy. Luck may cover skips, but walking or running isn't my Lady Luck's strong suit. Guess the sugar binge will have to be scaled down if I want to fit in this dress. And I _really want_ to wear this dress!

So, aside from earning money for my rent and credit card bill now I need to get my hair and nails done. I think Connie will do my nails for me. She gets lots of practice doing her own every day at the office. Maybe I can borrow the polish to do my own pedicure; matching nails are essential. Every Jersey girl knows that. My hair dresser, Mr. Alexander, sent out coupons to his long-time customers so I can use it to keep the cost down. I figure I need about $80 to cover everything but the bill and the rent. With fingers crossed I call Connie to see if she can do the manicure thing and if there are any bail jumpers. Eureka! The answer is "yes" to both. The tail end of 2012 is looking up!

I drive my dilapidated car to the bonds office as fast as it would go. It couldn't outrun an elderly skateboarder but it gets me there. As I look in the window, I could make out Lula on the cracked Naugahyde couch in her signature spandex. Today's colors were fuchsia and chartreuse. She must be channeling her Christmas cards. Go figure.

When I walk in the door, there sits Connie painting her blood red nails. Shocking! The best part is there are five files sitting on her desk. Please let those be for me.

"Hey, Con, are those all mine?" I asked sounding a bit hopeful.

"No, sorry Steph, these are for RangeMan. Tank is dropping by in a bit to pick them up. These two are yours. They're not worth much but maybe they'll help some."

Checking out my files I discover their bonds are really low, about $600 total. At least it's $60 more than I have now. Trying not to let my disappointment show I shrug and sit down by Lula to read the information more thoroughly. You never know, maybe these guys might be easy to capture. Yeah and maybe pigs will fly. Did I mention holiday depression sucks? Well, it does - the big one.

"Connie, do you think maybe there will be more skips in the next couple of days? My rent's due on the first so I need all I can get."

"I don't know, girlfriend; but Vinnie did bond out a bunch of people last week so now that we're past Christmas business should pick up for you. I'll call you as soon as somebody jumps. Oh, do you want me to do your manicure today?"

"Nah, I have a party to go to on the 31st so, if you don't mind, could you handle it on Friday?" Why did I mention the party? You'd think I'd learn! Here it comes, five…four…three…two…one….

Lula jumped off the couch like something bit her in her copious ass and yelled, "What party, white girl? You holdin' out on us? Spill it!"

Meanwhile Connie's big brown eyes popped open more than usual. "You're going to a New Year's Eve party? When did that happen? What are you gonna wear?"

Because of my big mouth I have to give them something before leaving to catch my hair money, uh, skips. Grabbing my bag with my files I head for the door muttering, "Uh, IgottainvitationtoapartyinPr inceton. See ya." Then I run for my life.

Needless to say, the minute I start the car my cell phone rings itself into a seizure. Sigh. I could just shoot myself but I'd have to get my gun out of my cookie jar first. You really don't want to hear about that. It's depressing.


	3. Chapter 3 - Making Some Moola

Chapter 3 – Making Some Moola

Alrighty then, first up is Dominic Rosetti wanted for animal cruelty. It seems he threw his wife's wet Chihuahua out in the snow overnight; she called the cops and Animal Protective Services on him. So much for good will toward men and God's little creatures. Yep, tis the season Trenton style. The file shows Dom works at a service station down on 3rd. Time to gas up my hotrod.

When I pulled into the station, Dom was nowhere in sight. I asked the owner if he was around but was told he'd pulled a bender last night and stayed home sick. Well, it looks like Mrs. Rosetti will have even more fun at Dom's expense. He gets no sympathy from me, the dog.

Flipping open my frazzled cell phone I called Mrs. Rosetti to tell her I was on my way. After she stopped laughing like a hyena she promised he'd be ready. I drove into their driveway to find Dom asleep on the frozen ground in his underwear tied to the mailbox. Never piss off a vengeful woman; it can get ugly. And that's what I told the cops at the station when I delivered the guy. Cops have interesting humor.

Coincidentally, the other skip was arrested for shooting out the tires of an Animal Control truck. Seems Reginald Cooper took offense when they picked up his pit bull for aggressive behavior, that would be growling and snapping at neighbors, then tried to transport the unfriendly pup to the pound. Fortunately, no humans were harmed, Reggie was arrested and AC sent a new truck for the hound.

The risky side to all this was Reggie breeds pit bulls so he harbors several of the beasts. I'm not too sure he's going to hop right in my car for a trip to the station so I decided to go by Giovichinni's Deli to see if they have any old meat lying about.

Armed with icky dog treats I knocked on Reggie's door. When he answered, I gave him the usual spiel about rescheduling his court date and that was when all hell broke loose. Friggin' dogs were everywhere! Reggie was high-tailing it down the icy street in his speedo and I was on my ass slinging meat in all directions! Scrambling to my feet I tore after my skip, caught him by pulling his speedo around his ankles and jumped on his back. Man, that had to hurt! Happy New Year and yea me!

I called Animal Control to put the dogs back in the house. When the guys showed up, they were laughing their asses off but were nice enough to load good old Reggie in my car so I could take him in. Looks like this is gonna be another "Bombshell Bounty Hunter" story to make the rounds. I continually wish the reporter that gave me that moniker gets untreatable herpes. Today I wished it twice.

Now I have to brave the bonds office to turn in my body receipts and get my $60; I needed to get my story straight before the inquisition begins. Why me? Damn, I sound like my mother.

On the way to the office Tank, Ranger's second in command, called to ask if I had time to do a distraction for him. Ranger sometimes asks me to do them for RangeMan. It requires me to dress like a slut, be it skanky, classy or needy, to lure a skip outside a building so his team can capture said felon and return them to the loving arms of the law. Although it can be risky at times I _never_ say no. A distraction usually pays well since Ranger only takes the high-priced bonds but the real reason is Ranger and his men unfailingly come to my rescue when I fall into a dangerous predicament like bombs and kidnappings. Today would be no exception. Besides I really need the cash.

"Okay, big guy, how does he like 'em and what did he do?"

"He's into skanks and we'll go after him at the Watering Hole on Stark. Bombshell, this is a bad one; he's indicted for assault and attempted rape so you have to be careful because if anything happens to you, Ranger will rearrange my body parts and ship me to Somalia."

_Attempted RAPE?!_ Do I want to do this now? No, but Tank is asking for Ranger and I can't turn him down. I gave a mental whine 'cause I _really _want to wear that dress and _not_ at my burial. Snap out of if, Stephanie! "When should I be ready to roll?"

"Intel has it he will be there a 10 tonight. I'll pick you up at 2215."

"Tank, what is it in normal people time?"

He laughed. "Bomber, I'd think by now you'd learned. It's 10:15 p.m."

"Tank," I replied in a peevish tone, "as long as you've known me, I'd think you'd know I don't do military anything."

As I whipped as semi-quick u-turn, my cell rang again. It was Connie telling me she had three more files for me and they were related. Gak! Two brothers and a cousin decided to hold up a liquor store last night while celebrating the holidays. And they were armed! It gets better and better. They live in the Burg so I called my life-long best friend Mary Lou to see what the grapevine says about them. Lou is connected to the Burg network and she's my source for all things Chambersburg.

Back at my apartment I begin the task of putting the skank look together for tonight. There's enough stuff to pull it off but I _need_ to go shopping after the first of the year for everything. Good thing I'm getting more skips on my plate.

I jumped in the shower to wash off the sweat, mud and doggie paw prints. Yuk. While I'm dressing I decide to give a call to the Chinese restaurant down the street for delivery. General Tso's chicken and fried wontons are just the ticket for tonight's takedown. A girl need's her strength!


	4. Chapter 4 - A Hard Day's Night

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 4 - A Bad Day's Night

After showering and stuffing myself with oriental food, I finished off my transformation into a black haired, white-faced escapee from rehab with enough eye makeup to give Maybelline a profitable fourth quarter. Looked sufficiently skanky to me. The torn black micro miniskirt, sheer purple peasant blouse and five-inch black heeled boots completed the picture. Hell_, I'd_ send me to Salvation Army for a makeover.

At 10:15 on the dot the locks tumbled on my front door revealing Ranger. Holy Batman! He's back! Since he's dressed in biker leathers and _lots_ of heavy silver chains, I'm going out on a limb here and guess he'll be my inside backup. The man looks great in anything…or nothing; but standing there with his long hair down, silver hoop earrings and a two-day-old growth of beard, he was dangerously gorgeous. Taking two quick strides he took me in his arms, plastered me to his chest and kissed me into oblivion. "Babe, this guy is dangerous but you shouldn't have a problem leading him outside dressed like this."

After my vision cleared I replied with a line he used a long time ago. "So does this mean I get to see you work your magic in leather?"

Ranger chuckled then took my chin in hand to look into my eyes and said, "Seriously, Stephanie, don't take any chances. Tank and I will be inside. Each of the three exits will be guarded by Bobby, Lester or Vince. Hal is driving the van." A wired mike appeared in his hand and I tried not to focus on what that hand was touching. Nope, not successful. Guess it's time to rock and roll but my celebrated spidey sense said this job just _feels_ hinky.

I reviewed the file on the way. The skip, Claude Rippey, is attractive in a skin crawling sorta way. He has curly brown hair, a bit long, and cold gray eyes plus a jagged scar on his face just below his mustache. Stats say he's 6'2" and 210 pounds. Great. Pretty sure I can't bring him down alone. RangeMan can have the pleasure.

When we arrived at the bar, Ranger pulled me in for a kiss and whispered, "Go get 'em, tiger." I gave him a saucy nod and vamped my way to the front door. You can do this, Steph; the guys have your back. I _really_ tried to believe it.

Heavy metal screamed from the speakers when I walked through the door. The din, smoke and whistles hit me like a brick wall; it took several moments to locate Tank who nodded toward a table in the back of the bar. Guess the old stumble routine's out so time for a more direct approach. Besides, the skip looks like he never heard of chivalry. Probably couldn't spell it.

I slithered up to his table, winked and simpered, "Hey handsome, what's shakin'? Mind if I hang with _you_ for a while? How 'bout a drink and a dance?"

Scary Claude scanned my face and body with his dead eyes for what seemed like an eternity. "You're a good lookin' little thing, Doll, so whatcha drinkin' tonight?" I tried not to shake in my boots and decided it was safer _not_ to be a skank with attitude since the butt of a gun was clearly visible at his waist.

The prudent thing to do was somehow let Ranger know the creep was armed. When I surreptitiously scanned the room to find Ranger, he was nowhere in sight. Crap! Well, here goes nothing. "Thanks. Make it a beer."

All of a sudden the guy pulls me out on the dance floor, grabs me by the butt and jerks my body close to his. Ewww! Now's the time. I whined, "Hey, handsome, can you move that thing to the back 'cause it hurts like a son of a bitch and besides I don't wanna get shot in the foot. These are new boots."

He pinched me hard on the side of my left breast and snarled, "You could get shot alright but you be wishin' it was in your foot." Then he locked my wrist in a vise-like grip and dragged me through a supply room door. "Time to teach you about respectin' your betters, whore, by beatin' some sense in you. Hurry up or I'll start right now. If you make a sound, I'll shoot you where you stand. It'd be a shame, too, 'cause I really wanna fuck you blind." Then he shoved me out a door. Guess this exit didn't come with a Merry Man guard. Shit!

"But whatta 'bout my beer?" Shouldn't have said that because he stopped short and punched me in the stomach. Hard. Since my stomach was already roiling from fear, the hit made me spew undigested Chinese food all over his shoes. That did it. His fist came up and slammed into my chin which sent my flying through space to crash land on the pavement. My first thought while struggling for breath was 'I hate being right' followed by 'Can I still wear my dress?'

Yelling "You're not worth it, slut," I hear two loud bangs and then nothing…


	5. Chapter 5 - It's Not My Fault

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 5 – It's Not My Fault

I struggled to open my eyes and was relieved to hear no beeping sounds. Thank God! No beeping means no monitors, no hospital. Unfortunately, I'm intimately familiar with both. It seems I'm lying on something hard that smells a lot like motor oil. Parking lot? Taking inventory, my head and stomach hurt like hell. Then I remember what happened and panic sets in; I'm afraid the skip shot me or, heaven forbid, was about to. A soft voice whispers in my ear, "Babe, the paramedics will be here in a minute so lie still."

Ranger. "What happened, Batman?"

"What do you remember?"

"The skip dragged me outside through a supply closet, punched me in the stomach, I threw up on his shoes, he knocked me about a twenty feet and threatened to shoot me. Why wasn't one of your men outside that door?"

"The owner assured me that exit was bolted and barred. It checked out. Plus there were signs the door hadn't been opened in years. I decided it didn't need coverage. In his trunk were bolt cutters, lock picking tools and a delivery uniform."

"I heard two loud bangs did you shoot someone?"

"No, the skip fired at you and Tank shot the gun out of his hand before he could get off another round."

"Where is he?"

"Over there with my men waiting for the EMTs."

"Because a gun was shot out of his hand?" Wuss!

"No, because I beat him to a bloody pulp."

"Ranger, you could get in trouble."

"Babe, he hurt you. No price, remember?"

"Well, I'm lucky he's a lousy shot, huh."

"Unfortunately he wasn't. The bullet creased the left side of your head."

"WHAT!" No wonder it hurts like hell. The bastard tried to grab my backbone through my navel, drive my chin through the back of my head and ventilate my brain. I hope he gets to know his cellmate intimately. "Wish I had done more than spew on his shoes!" I don't have time for this. There's a party in my future.

Ranger cocked an eyebrow and said "What party, Babe?"

Oops! I said that out loud and am going to insist it's the head injury. "Uh, just a get together on New Year's Eve. How are you going to celebrate?" Distract and redirect. After all, I learned from the master.

"Babe, it's a workday just like any other. Hope you have a blast though." Now that's just low. The exploding cars, funeral home and fast food restaurant _were not my fault!"_

Then the EMTs arrive and patch me up. Need to be presentable for the ER crowd. Snort. At least they can't blame me.

They _can_ blame it on me, all of them: my mother, the Burg, my ex-whatever, the skip's lawyer and the herpes ridden reporter. Okay, maybe he's not infected but he should be. According to common knowledge, and it's _very _common, I lured the poor soul outside to have my wicked way with him _and_ all the Merry Men. Geez! I have my own little porn noir soap opera, Stephanie Does Trenton. _And…AND…a_lright I'm yelling here…they think Ranger's team was so jealous they shot and pummeled him, bless his heart. Curse them with big nasty boils! At least the cops know better; after all they can read police reports which are part of the…wait for it…_public friggin' record!_

I just wanna go home and sleep for a week. With this headache from hell I'm going to take a page from Scarlett O'Hara and think about it tomorrow. It's time to pull the battery from my cell and shut the ringer off the house phone. Sounds like a plan. And that's exactly what I did. When I open the door to the apartment I shuck my shoes in the entryway, grab some Advil, kill the phones, head for the bedroom and fall into bed. Thank God for this break.

The next morning I awoke to the smell of coffee brewing. Umm. Now whoever is nice enough to break into my apartment to make me coffee can't be all bad. Maybe. Hope they brought donuts. Staggering out I shuffle to the kitchen to greet my fairy godperson or troll – you just never know. Well, I guessed very wrong because Ranger is standing in my kitchen making breakfast. I must have done something spectacular in a previous life.

"Mornin', Batman, you're a god among men. You made coffee."

"Sleep well, Babe?"

"Yep, are we having berries and twigs for breakfast? Or, be still my heart, pancakes?"

"Actually, Smartass, today is a cheesy mushroom omelet and bacon muffin kind of day."

"Wow, you made muffins with fatty _bacon_ inside? Who are you and what did you do with my Ranger?" _My Ranger_? Careful, Steph, he's just being a good friend. Don't blow this out of proportion.

"_Your_ Ranger thought you could use some happy after the cluster fuck last night. Babe, I'm really sorry I didn't post a guard at that door. You were hurt because of my negligence. It won't ever happen again."

"Ranger, you made a reasonable decision, but unreasonable things happen to me all the time. I'm fine. Besides I always thought my hair would look better parted at my left temple anyway." He looked so forlorn I put my arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. "Batman, I was just teasing. Don't feel bad. It was just a stupid joke."

Before I could step back Ranger took me in his arms, gave me a soft kiss on the lips and murmured, "Stephanie, I don't ever want you to get hurt but especially not when you're helping me. If something terrible happened to you on my watch, I'd never forgive myself."

"That means a lot to me." I assured him. "I've always trusted you with my life and that's never going to change, Ranger." I gave him a cheeky grin and said, "I'm starved; I wanna taste those muffins you made just for me."

After a delicious breakfast prepared by a luscious man it was time to hit the streets to capture the three related miscreants, cash in my receipts and, best of all, get my nails done. Woohoo!


	6. Chapter 6 - The Statler Brothers 1

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 6 – The Statler Brothers +1

First order of business is turn on my phones and check for a message from Mary Lou about the Statler brothers and their cousin, Reggie Weeks. Judging from their pictures they got off the bus around the last Ice Age. They looked lowbrow and mean. I'm pullin' for lowbrow and denyin' mean.

The phones sprung to life reporting a disgusting number of voice mails and God knows what else. I ran the list on my land line and as usual they were from my "long-suffering" mother. I know she is because I've been suffering right along with her since she took me home from the hospital. It's been an _interminable_ thirty-something years. A few of the calls were from Joe but most of his were on my cell spewing the same old shit…Ranger bad…you're a slut and an embarrassment…grow up…marry me…have babies…learn to cook…boys miss you, yada, yada, yada. Wish he'd get new material.

The cell, on the other hand, racked up plenty. Good thing I pulled the battery. In the middle of the noise was one lone message from ML so I returned the call. She picked up right away shouting to be heard over her precious brood. That story is for another day but suffice it to say they're one of the reasons I'm scared to death to have a child.

"Hey, Lou, did you find anything on the Statlers or Weeks? I haven't seen Reggie since middle school. How about you?" Then I waited with baited breath as Mary Lou took _forever_ to answer the question."

"Sorry, Steph, the boys are driving me nuts and getting into everything since there are no presents to open and the stuff they did get seems not to interest them anymore. Typical after Christmas experience in this house. First of all, how are you? I heard about the trouble last night. Sorry I missed the so-called orgy and excitement. What these Burgites are willing to believe about you is amazing."

"I'm fine but Mr. Alexander will have to fix the new part in my hair. Anyway, I really need that information because my rent's due and my credit card bill just showed up!"

"I haven't seen Reggie either but have seen his mom, Claire, at the bakery from time to time; but I see Dean and Roy's mom, Sylvia, all the time at mass. She's very devout and a member of the seniors' group so your grandma may know more. I assume you're not going to your mother for gossip?"

"Hell no, all she does is gossip about me to my face! Out of self-preservation I'm giving that a pass. Do you know anything about the boys…er…men? Where they hang out and with whom?"

"I did hear they were seen on Stark Street in the company of some working girls. No idea who. I have their moms' addresses if you need them. They both live in the Burg but the guys aren't staying with them."

"Yeah, send me a text with that info so I can do the legwork. Thanks loads, Lou, I owe you a drink next time we have a day."

"Look forward to it, Steph, a night away from the asylum where the inmates are in charge would be a blessing. Bye and go get 'em!"

Now _that's_ the way to end a telephone conversation. Maybe Mary Lou could teach a class at RangeMan on proper phone etiquette _starting_ with Ranger. He just hangs up. Clients must love that.

Next, to the bond's office to ask Lula what her friend Jackie knows about the skips. Unfortunately it means I'm going to have to give her a bone in the form of info on the party as a bribe. Gossip is currency in the Burg. Nuts! As I creep to a halt in front of the office window, the light dawns. Donuts! Making a decrepit getaway I head for Tasty Pastry to get more payola. Food distracts Lula so with luck I might escape unscathed. Hey, I'm being positive here. It could happen!

When I return with my gifts there stands Joe Morelli in front of the bond's office. Great! Thought I was safe 'til after New Year's Day. _But no!_ My cousin-in-law, Eddie Gazzara, is standing beside Joe and he doesn't look too happy…more like worried really.

Joe starts his harangue before I even get out of the car. As usual he yells loud enough to broadcast it to greater New Jersey just in case anyone missed his self-righteous disdain. "Cupcake, you know working with Ranger gets you in trouble, gets you hurt and ruins your reputation every time you do it. People think you're nothing but a whore and my family wants me to drop you asap! As long as you hang around him and his goons, everybody's going to disrespect your family and _me! _I need to talk to you in private."

"Oh hell no, this is as private as it's gonna get! Why not air all our dirty laundry so the Burg has a front row seat. It'll save the gossips the effort of embellishing the story for greater titillation."

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, Stephanie. We need to discuss this in private!"

"How about I use this tone, you arrogant asshole?" Let's see if snarling makes a dent in his thick skull. Probably not! Where's a good tire iron when you need it? "Morelli, you don't deserve an explanation. I've discussed and explained 'til I'm blue in the face and you _never_ listen. No more! We haven't been a couple since before Thanksgiving so you have no right to dictate how I live my life. You also know that last night RangeMan and I successfully got a _rapist _off the streets. How we did it caused no injuries to innocent people and was entirely legal. I'm sick of your shit, Joe. Oh, and you can take 'your boys' that miss me so much to one of your pet skanks. I'm sure they can service you 'cause they've had _lots_ of practice. I AM DONE."

"It's been a real displeasure, guys; but I have a date with my manicurist. Takedowns are hell on the nails." With a grimace and a finger wave I flounced into the office where Lula and Connie stood with their mouths open. I so feel like Wonder Woman on steroids.

Grinning at their shocked faces, I said, "Girls, close your mouths. You'll catch flies." Then I fall on the tacky couch and lose myself in hysterical laughter. Damn that feels good.


	7. Chapter 7 - Three For the Road

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 7 – Three More for the Road

While Connie got on with the matter of my hands I questioned Lula about the smarmy habits of one Reggie Weeks. She put in a call to her friend Jackie who was "entertaining" so the girls got down to the business of pumping me about New Year's Eve.

"So white girl what you wearin' to this fancy gig? Tell me it ain't jeans and a t-shirt. You know I can loan you somethin' hot. After all we 'bout the same size."

That's when Connie lost it. "Girl, are you crazy. You make two of Steph and besides she has to dress _fine_ for an event like this."

"I can do 'fine' just _fine_! Don't go uppity on me, Miss Thang, or I'll bust a cap up your ass!" And away we go.

Then I felt it. Ranger had arrived. The man did have presence and as usual all women within a two-block radius were dumbstruck – namely Connie and Lula. The phenomenon really was an awesome sight to behold.

"Ladies. Babe, can I see you outside?" He touched my neck and guided me into the alley bringing back memories of the many times we had been there before. "Babe, here's a check for your part in Rippey's capture."

When I saw the amount I was stunned. "Ranger, this is too much. His bond was $120,000 so the fee is $12,000 to RangeMan. Why would you pay me half that?"

"Because you got hurt due to a mistake I made not providing backup and before you say anything RangeMan policy is to do this for any employee in the same situation."

"Okay, so you're not treating me differently than the guys?"

"No, I'm not. You've expressed your opinion on that score more than once. I listened." He took a deep breath and continued. "I wanted to talk to you about something else. I was wondering if you could change your plans for New Year's Eve. There's a high level skip we think will be in Manhattan that night and I could use your help recovering him."

"Ranger, I don't know. Some things have already been arranged and I don't feel I can renege. Can I get back to you on that?"

"Sure, Babe. We're not a hundred percent positive he's going be there and there's two weeks left on his bond." He turned to leave, shook his head and returned to press me against the wall. Once again he kissed me until my mind fogged over and walked away. I guess he wasn't the inviter or the Gucci giver. Damn! Now what do I do?

Answer: go to the bank, pay my rent, pay off my credit card bill _and_ buy groceries. After the manicure I still need to find my skips. Time was running out. Maybe Jackie called back.

When I walked back into the office, Lula was jiggling in her seat. She either had to pee or had news for me. I was hoping for the latter as I sat down for Connie to apply the second coat of the black and silver nail lacquer called 'Live and Let Die.' Seemed appropriate.

"Jackie called and says Weeks been doin' a 'ho named Cherry. She a new girl and _younnnng_! Don't have no corner yet so she's been set up by her pimp, Sugar D. He's gotta crib down on Stark over the Buy 'n Baggit. Want me to go with? I got my gun."

Now here's the thing. Lula illegally carries a big ass but unregistered gun in her purse and sometimes hits what she aims at, Stark Street is beyond dangerous, and she used to have a 'corner' there in her former profession. "Lula, appreciate your help but keep the gun in your purse. We're just checking things out, okay?"

"A'ight, white girl, but you ain't no fun no more! Let's stop at Cluck in a Bucket on the way 'cause they got some fried chicken with my name on it. Need my strength to take out Sugar D. Now let's roll."

"I've got to make a stop first and we'll do lunch. Let's take my car 'cause it will fit right in on Stark."

"Sheeit, that piece of crap'd barely fit in a junkyard!"

Connie laughed, "It'll be a blessing when you blow it up. Maybe Mooner will drop a lit joint in it like the last time."

After shooting her the universal finger, Lula and I swung out the door just as my cell shrieked the theme from "Alien," the ring tone for my mother. Oops, forgot to return her ten hundred phone calls. If I let it go to voice mail, the thing will probably implode and I don't have time to replace it. "Hi, Mom can't talk right now; but I'll stop by for dinner tomorrow night. Okay?"

"Stephanie Michelle, I've been calling you for days and you haven't returned _one_ of my calls. I raised you better than that! You be here promptly at six o'clock and invite Joseph so you can apologize to him for the scene you caused at your latest stupid stunt. How could you?"

"Mom, I'll be there at six but I won't bring Joe and I'm not apologizing for anything. We'll talk about it tomorrow but now I really have to go." Then I disconnected. Going to catch hell for that, too. Gee, that'll be a novel experience. I just rolled my eyes at Lula and started my vintage vehicle. We're toddlin' now.

When my bank account and stomach were pleasantly full, Lula and I drove to Buy 'n Baggit on Stark. The place would have to go through renovation to qualify as rundown. Just as I turn the corner Lula jumps out of the car waving her arms yelling 'Freeze!' at a scantily dressed young girl and none other than Reggie Weeks. What are the odds? The girl freezes like a deer in headlights and dear old Reggie hauls his skinny behind around a building. Great! Now I have to run to catch up with him before he gets to his cousins. _Run _down this filthy, godforsaken alley full of trash and broken bottles and used…I don't want to know. I spot him up ahead holding on to the brick wall gasping for breath. Hot damn! A skip more out of shape than _me_! I feel so proud so I saunter up to him and reach in my back pocket for cuffs. Left 'em in the car. I am so screwed.

It was getting late and the shadows hid lots of scurrying and creepy things. My skin was crawling and the hair on my neck was standing at attention. As I reached for Reggie's arm he spun around and bowled me over running for the alley entrance then ran straight into Lula's embrace. It was kinda strange watching her smacking him while doing a good rendition of the chicken dance and blessing herself. I would have laughed but I saw a couple of two-legged rats rush into the alley with guns. The Statler brothers.

Crawling behind a dumpster seemed my only escape then I spotted it…Lula's big yellow plastic purse. Eureka! I rummage through it and grasp the cannon inside, took aim at a Statler and fired. The most amazing thing happened. The bullet ricocheted off a brick wall and struck Dean in the right shoulder causing him to fire his weapon and hit his brother, Roy, in the butt.

What a sight! There's Lula dancin', Dean cussin', Roy hoppin', pidgeons squawkin' and people pointin'. Only thing missing was a partridge in a pear tree. I sat by the filthy, overflowing dumpster and burst into uncontrollable laughter. Then I remembered the missing handcuffs, hurried out of the alley toward my car and stopped dead. There it sat. The words 'It Lives' spray painted on the front window in blood red and 'Not No More' on the hood with a huge bullet hole for emphasis.

My head hung down and shoulders slumped I think out loud, "There are no words." Behind me I hear a chuckle and Ranger's voice, "No, Babe, there aren't."


	8. Chapter 8 - Time for Changes

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 8 – Time for Changes

Last evening Ranger gave me a ride home since my gimpy car was assassinated. Stark Street strikes again. He escorted me to my apartment and did the security walk through thing. I pity the fool stupid enough to break in when he does that. Of course Ranger won't have to shoot the idiot; he'll die of fright looking down the gun barrel into those eyes.

But I love those beautiful brown eyes. They speak when his mouth says nothing, his face expressionless. They become mischievous with humor, cold with fury, piercing with danger and soft when he kisses me. They seem to stare straight into your soul.

Those eyes were locked on mine as he took a long swig from the bottle of Corona I'd handed him. When he pulled the beer from his lips he suddenly asked, "Babe is Morelli taking you to the party in Princeton?" He was fishing but I really didn't want to tell him about the invitation. I knew what he'd say when I told him the invitation came from a mystery "man." That's why I thought it was from Ranger. He _is_ my man of mystery. And I have what I call my Spidey sense that warns me when something is "off" or wrong. There's been nary a tingle.

Instead I told him about the confrontation with Joe. He'd hear about it soon enough. There wasn't much he didn't know that happened in and around Trenton or anywhere else for that matter.

"Proud of you, Babe, for the way you handled Morelli and how you took down your skips. It seems like you're really moving forward."

"Thank you, that means a lot to me. I decided to make a few New Year resolutions. There are some areas of my life that need improvement and I would really like to make those changes next year. One I could use your help with."

"You know I'll help any way I can."

So I jumped right in, "Could you and I set up a running schedule?"

"Sure. How about every weekday at 0500?"

I started whining, "Wouldn't it be better at 7 in the morning? We might go to breakfast after." My fingers, toes and eyes were crossed. Hope springs eternal.

"Sorry, Babe, no can do. How about we compromise on 0600 and do breakfast when we can. If I have to go out of town, Lester will take my place."

Guess I have to get my ass out of bed at 5:30 in the morning. At least I get to sleep in on the weekend. "Okay, but you better warn Lester I'm kinda surly before sunrise."

"He knows; afraid the word's out on your early morning disposition. I'll be here at 0600 on the 2nd. This is going to be fun." His eyes sparkled and he actually broke into a full-fledged grin. Then he rose, kissed my nose and disappeared like smoke.

Only Ranger would think dragging me out of bed to run was fun. My bed head alone was scary as hell. Sheesh! I must be out of my mind.

I awoke Saturday morning stretching my sore muscles. Yesterday's little scuffle with the Statlers and Weeks left me battered and bruised, but I felt great compared to my post Christmas blues. My skips were back in the pokey and my bank account was healthy so today's goals were go see Mr. Alexander and buy sheets for my bed.

After Ranger left last night I surfed the web and found a 1500 thread-count Egyptian cotton bed-in-a-bag with down comforter on sale for $250. Eureka! _Plus _it came in the prettiest deep blue…kind of ocean-y. Maybe if I found some sand-colored pillows, throws and a rug the place would feel like the shore. Pictures of Point Pleasant on the wall. New age music of surf sounds. I'm on a roll. Another resolution down.

I crawled out of bed at a civilized hour, 10 am. Better take advantage while I can. First order of business is to put the coffee on then take a leisurely shower and wash the wild hair. Don't want to scare the natives. Next, try to cure the attitude with a cup of coffee and lots of sugar and cream and, most important, a Tastykake or three. Crap! No Tastykakes, no weight gain, no danger of not fitting into my gorgeous dress. Java is all I get.

Time to go to my other happy place – Quakerbridge Mall. There were pictures of _the dress_ on my phone so Mr. Alexander can see what I'm shooting for. After that…Macy's for Ranger sheets. I'm going to sleep good tonight! Then I remembered dinner in Hell. Double crap! And then I remembered no car. Guess I've finally achieved the crap trifecta.

What to do? What to do?

I called my Dad to ask if I could borrow Grandpa's indestructible old Buick. The powder blue antique may not be the snazziest ride in town but it'll get me to the mall. Luckily a poker buddy could follow him over and take him back to the lodge for a hot game. As he handed me the keys, he wrapped me in a hug and mumbled, "I filled it with high octane for you and remember, Pumpkin, your mother is expecting you at six for dinner." How could I forget?

As I clambered into Detroit's version of the QE2 and made my way to my salon appointment, the hairstyles I had considered since the day I received the gown began to take shape in my mind. The dress was black pleated silk georgette with a neckline that plunged to the waist at front and back. The overall effect was very feminine but Mr. Alexander needed to tame my curls into a sleeker look. Although the gown whispered graceful the shoes and handbag screamed avante garde. I hope Mr. A. is inspired because between the incredible outfit and the bullet crease over my ear, this is going to be a challenge.

Mr. Alexander waved me into his chair then closely examined the wound near my temple. "Stephanie, my other clients have bad hair days. You, on the other hand, have disasters of epic proportions. Tell me whoever did this isn't still walking the streets."

"Nope, he's behind bars and in traction, the lousy SOB."

"Good to know. So did you say you're going to a soiree in Princeton for New Years?"

"This is one of those times when only your hairdresser knows for sure. What I'm about to tell you hasn't been divulged to anyone and I'd like to keep it that way."

When I finished my tale and showed him the photos on my phone, Mr. Alexander was beyond excited and after a few tries he achieved an honest to goodness miracle. He added a few low lights around the face especially at the temples and wove it into what he called a braided chignon. I gave him a hug and he said he would "freshen it" on Monday before the event. It's true. My hairdresser is a prince among men.

I went a bit crazy in Macy's and a small local gallery. My overall outlay for the bedroom makeover made a larger dent in my account than I intended. I'd promised myself, and by extension, my credit card _and_ my bank that the credit card would _not_ be used for any "resolution" purchases. Instead all would be paid for in cash. I wanted to start the next year off right with no obligations, no amounts due. Thanks to Ranger's generosity for the Rippey distraction it was totally possible.

Once all fifty shopping bags were hauled upstairs to my little soon-to-be nest (okay, it _felt_ like fifty and I took the elevator _not_ the stairs) the fun could begin. Goodwill would sniff at my "vintage" stuff so it was consigned to the dumpster. If the local divers wanted to rescue any or all of it, God bless 'em.

First up: wash linens, towels and slip covers. Since I was running late, I decided to shower and dress for the Plum dinner date before playing interior decorator. I needed some play before persecution. When I was done, my modest chest was puffed with pride. My inner sanctum was beautiful! From the deep blue duvet cover to the sunset reminiscent chair slipcover and matching curtains to the seashell covered pillows to the soft sandy rug the room imbued me with peace. I had found beach scenes at dawn and twilight taken near Point Pleasant. Finally, a small lamp made from driftwood completed the effect.

Taking one last wistful look I breathed a huge sigh and headed to what threatened to be a confrontation of epic proportions. Turned out I didn't know the half of it.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Plum Offensive

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 9 – The Plum Offensive

Sliding to the curb in front of my parents' house with five minutes to spare, I parked behind Joe's SUV. Sitting in the driveway was Valerie's mom van. Apparently the gang's all here.

You know, it's a lot easier to confront when angry and I went beyond anger straight into right royally _pissed!_ Mom was at the front door as usual, battle lines were drawn. She displayed the typical haughty, disapproving look and Grandma, who stood beside her, had eyes bright with excited mischief. Charge!

My mother issued her first command. "Stephanie, get in the house. I need to put dinner on the table before it gets cold."

"Sure. We don't want to air our dirty laundry out here in the open in front of the Burg and everybody, do we? They might get the wrong idea about the sainted Helen Plum. Hmmm?" Grandma snickered and winked at me. She was almost rubbing her hands together in gleeful anticipation. She'd always been my supporter.

"Stephanie Michelle Plum, how dare you use that disrespectful tone with me! I raised you to know better."

"Well, Mom, you have to earn respect before you get any. Frankly, at this late date, the constant contempt you've shown toward me has earned you nothing but my disgust. I won't let you hurt me anymore."

"Go into the kitchen, young lady! We'll discuss this there!" I followed her into her command center and continued.

"Don't think we have time for that 'discussion,' mother, you don't want dinner to get cold." I was being rude and I knew it. Plus she was right, I was raised to know better; but I couldn't stop my mouth, or my brain from remembering a life filled with snide comments and put downs. She always insisted I was inadequate in every way while my older sister was the opposite; she was perfect.

Storming into the dining room, I find everybody staring at me. Present were my entire family _and_ Joe Morelli. Guess they heard the argument. It was too much. As I turn to leave, Mom enters with the main course of roasted chicken and the usual vegetables, mashed potatoes and green beans. She glared at me and yelled, "Stephanie Michelle, sit down!"

Now I had choice. Run or stand there and finish this once and for all. If I run like I always do, nothing's changed. She wins again. Then I look at Joe and remember I had specifically told her he wasn't to be at dinner tonight. Once again my wishes and my decisions didn't matter. Nope, no escaping this time!

After I looked at Dad and mouthed 'I'm sorry' and took my seat, we passed the dishes around the table. My mother had a triumphant look on her face. However, I was determined to continue the confrontation but not until Valerie and her family left. The girls didn't need to be exposed to this. Plus I wanted Morelli _out of the house_! Suck it up, Plum! It'll be like ripping a band aid off a wound…only hurts for a minute. Yeah, right.

Mom tried to instigate the argument a couple more times during dinner but I just rolled my eyes saying nothing. That always pissed her off. The meal from hell would eventually end then the shit could hit the fan. As dessert was served, Valerie and I made eye contact and she looked at her family and then nodded at the door. Occasionally I agree that my sister is perfect because sometimes she 'gets' me. Glad this was one of those times.

While she ushered her husband and children out the door, I stood up and turned to Morelli. "Joe, you were invited here against my express wishes so you can leave now. I want nothing more to do with you but after tonight if my mother issues you another invitation, feel free to accept because I won't be here."

As Joe opened his mouth to respond, Dad glared at him, "You won't be invited back, Morelli. Regardless of what my wife wants, my daughter's wishes come first. If she doesn't want to see you again, that's good enough for me because it's about _damn_ time!"

I didn't know which one would stroke out first, Mom or Joe, since both their faces turned a disturbing beet red. Joe said nothing and just stalked out of the house slamming the front door so hard the dessert plates rattled. Grandma laughed, "Frank, good for you; I never thought you had it in you."

Mom glowered at me and shrieked, "Stephanie Plum this is all you fault. Frank, how am I going to explain to everyone why a dinner guest was forced to leave my table? What do I tell his mother?"

Dad just shrugged and answered, "I don't care one way or the other. Tell 'em the truth or nothing at all. It's nobody's business what goes on in this house despite what you and the 'Burg' may think. Now, I'm going to watch TV. If you need anything, Pumpkin, just let me know. I want to tell you, I'm proud of you for trying to get some of your own life back." With one more meaningful look at my mother he strode out of the room.

Mom turned to me and lost it. She tried so hard to find something hateful to say but it seemed she had nothing. She just spluttered. It was remarkable; I'd never seen that in my whole life. So I did something stupid, I laughed. And Grandma laughed with me. This, unfortunately, got a reaction.

"How dare you laugh at me! I'm your mother. When I correct you, I expect to be obeyed!"

"Mother, that's a reasonable expectation if I was a child. Unfortunately, I forgot since I am an adult you don't have that right so I allowed you to continue to verbally punish for not living up to your standards. You, on the other hand, bullied me into believing I was worthless. That won't happen anymore. I think you only tolerate me in your life so you have someone to abuse and complain about. You're a mean and bitter old woman and I won't play your cruel games from now on. Until you apologize for you behavior and speak to and about me with a civil tongue in your head, I won't be back."

With that final word I say goodbye to Grandma, drop a kiss on my Dad's head and stroll to the car. It feels like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulder. I am well and truly _free_.


	10. Chapter 10 - Two Days Before 2013

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 10 – The Day Before the Day Before 2013

Laying in my beautiful bed, a _hommage_ to Point Pleasant, thoughts turned to the many things I had to do before the party. First and foremost was get new wheels. I can only stand to drive Big Blue, everybody else's name for Grandpa Mazur's monster mobile, for short periods of time. That would be every time my cars cease to function. Of course, to be honest, I probably drive the thing more often than any car I've ever owned. So sad.

Since tomorrow was New Year's Eve, I planned to take all day getting ready. After all, the driver would be here at 6:30 to pick me up. The only trip out would be to the salon so Mr. Alexander could "refresh" my hairdo. It makes me snicker every time I remember him promising to do that for me.

While out car shopping today I need to swing by Connie's to have my nails "refreshed." She promised a pedicure, too. All this special treatment never happens to me so I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it. Sure Ranger offers me cars, which I turn down, and takes me a few nice restaurants but designer clothes and special beauty services are way beyond my experience. Wonder what it would be like where those things are commonplace…nah, my imagination is _not_ that good.

Which brings me to my real concern: Who sent me the invitation to the party and Gucci clothing? Most of all: Why am I not freaking out at the prospect? My life is full of crazies who threaten mayhem or worse at every turn; but somehow this situation doesn't cause my instincts to shout "Danger, Danger, Will Robinson!" and it makes no sense. I'm just really excited. Guess I've turned into a fearless adrenaline junkie. Yeah, right. As if. It's time to go car shopping before I give myself a headache.

Hopping into Detroit's example of a thyroid condition, I head to Foca's Used Cars. Al, Ranger's expert in all things automotive, suggested I go to Ernesto's for my next replacement. Said he was reputable and would give me a good price. Works for me.

When I drive into the lot, what do I see but a man who could be Ranger's relative except he has short dark hair and a thicker waist line. Damn! Cuban men have some seriously impressive genes. Head shaking I get out of the car and extend my hand to Mr. Foca. Focus, Stephanie.

"Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum. Al told me to come to you if I needed to buy a car."

Ernesto looked me over and grinned, "Yeah, Al told you might come by and I was to show you my best inventory. What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I guess an SUV would work best because I'm a…"

"Miss Plum, I know who you are. Like most guys in Trenton I follow your exploits in the newspapers. I can't wait to tell _mi amigos_ the Bombshell Bounty Hunter bought a car from me."

I tried unsuccessfully to rein in my temper. I did better controlling my mouth. "Mr. Foca, we'll get along better if you call me Stephanie. I also expect you to resist the temptation to tell your _friends_ what kind of car I buy. I think Al and Ranger would agree that I don't need more notoriety in my life. Of course, I could always ask them how they feel about it. You think I should?"

Good old Ernesto starts to sweat a bit and shakes his head vehemently, "No, Miss Plum, that won't be necessary, I assure you. You can depend on my silence."

It was time to get this show on the road so we begin to discuss what he had available. That's when I saw the cutest dark blue CRV with black leather interior. It looked like a late model and was in great condition so I figured the price was out of my reach. Then I saw the sticker. Holy cow! He only wanted $3,500 for it! Could I be that lucky? Answer: Hell no!

"Mr. Foca, is that really the price for the blue Honda?"

He nodded, "Yes, Miss Plum, the reports show it was well maintained by the original owner and never involved in a collision."

Something seemed off so I pursued the subject. "I can't believe I'm saying this; but it seems like a low price for a late model in such good condition."

His face broke into a big smile. "This is a special just for you. Al said Ranger wanted you to have a safe car at a low cost."

My temperature started rising and my hands fisted on my hips. "Oh, he did, did he? And as you are a good businessman, did you accept his offer to make up the difference?"

Ernesto's smile faltered and he shuffled his feet in embarrassment. "Si, but Miss Plum er Stephanie, he said he was trying to take care of you as your friend."

"I'm sorry, Ernesto, I didn't mean to snap at you. What is the _real_ price on this car?" This poor man didn't deserve my anger, Ranger did. He knows I don't want to take something this expensive from him. It's his sneaky way of doing an end run. Not going to happen.

"I listed it for $13,500."

"So Ranger um Al offered to pay the rest, the $10,000?" He nodded again. The man was probably afraid Ranger would hurt him or worse since his street reputation certainly supported that fear. "I'll tell you what, show me a couple of cars that _really_ cost somewhere in the neighborhood of $3,000 and maybe we can make a deal _only if_ you give me your word you won't repeat this conversation to Al _or_ Ranger."

This time Ernesto gave me a vigorous nod and sighed in relief. "_Si_, back of the lot there are two cars that might work. I already told my staff to lower the prices because I've had trouble moving them; but, Miss Plum, these aren't ones you would want to drive." I could swear the man was begging me to change my mind. Again, ain't gonna happen!

After all the negotiations I drove away in a grayish Buick Regal that had seen better days. All systems worked, today anyway. It even had a/c and heat for now, and the tires weren't bald. Skips could fit in the back and it could go more than 25 mph in drive. _Damn_, it's a speedmobile! Now we're cookin' with gas!

A dozen celebratory donuts in hand I knocked a syncopated rap on Connie's door. She opened up and grinned at the Tasty Pastry box in my hand.

"Hey,Con, if you've got coffee to go with these, let's party!" I was stoked. I had a good car, a new dress, new shoes and a party to go to. Yep, 2013 was looking like a way better year.

Later that night as I slipped between the soft as a baby's butt sheets my mind still reeled from all the fantastic things that had happened since Christmas. Tomorrow I would have my special gift, an adventure of fabulous proportions. Wish I had someone to share it with…


	11. Chapter 11 - New Year's Eve Day

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 11 – New Year's Eve Day

I awoke with a smile on my face. _Before coffee!_ Coffee, I swear I could smell it. Now here's the thing, people break into my apartment uninvited all the time. I, however, cannot open the door without a key. It's bloody amazing I've not been murdered in my sleep! Upon staggering into the kitchen there was the coffee maker merrily dripping away. On the table sat a pastry box with a long-stemmed red rose on top. Don't know whether to be thrilled or terrified so I approach it with tremulous smile and shaky hands. Sighing in relief I open the envelope addressed to "Babe." Inside Ranger wrote,

"_Stephanie, I hope you enjoy this special treat_

_and the party tonight is spectacular. _

_Happy New Year,_

_R_"

In the box was a calzone. A _fried_ calzone! Stuffed with chocolate! With _powdered sugar_! Maybe the Mayans were a few days off. I was stunned then I flipped the note over and written on the back was, "This stuff will kill you, Babe." Whew! The world righted itself. Batman, the king of twigs and berries, had returned.

I decided last night my hair was the first order of business so I ambled downstairs to the car. Leaning against the driver's side of what I now called the Gray Goose was none other than His Majesty himself.

"Why didn't you get a better car from Ernesto, Babe?"

"Because I didn't want you to fork over $10,000 for a car that's just going to blow up in a few days. Ranger, we've had this conversation before. I pay my own way. I've destroyed more cars than I can count and the expensive ones were yours. Never again! You know I don't want your money and I can't believe you tried an end run with Mr. Foca when you _already _knew that."

He raised his hands in, I guess, submission. "Okay, Babe. I just want you to be safe."

"And I really appreciate it. Thank you for the coffee and calzone this morning; it was sinful and delicious. Now I'm off to the hairdresser's to have my hair repaired for tonight."

"Yeah, have to get to a meeting. I really like your hair; it's becoming, but I hope your curls will be back before too long. Be careful tonight but have fun and I'll see you next year." He kissed my forehead, slipped in his black Porsche Cayenne and pulled out of the parking lot.

Huh, he seemed…distant or unsure. Can't be 'cause Ranger doesn't do unsure anything _ever_. Maybe he's just thinking about his meeting. Yep, that makes more sense.

I pointed the Gray Goose toward the mall, slipped an old Metallica disc in, turned the CD player volume to a harmful decibel level and zoomed away. OMG the speakers work! Hallelujah!

Shortly after I arrived at the salon Mr. Alexander was able to work me in and fix the damage. My hairstyle was flawless once again and I couldn't wait to get home to enjoy a hot bath. My favorite scent is Dolce Vita so I stopped at the Macy's perfume counter to pick up some DV shower gel and bath salts. The words for today were leisure and luxury and I was _so_ looking forward to it.

The bedside alarm clock read one o'clock which means I have a little over five hours until the chauffer shows up. Time for a snack and a short nap. After a peanut butter and olive sandwich with some chips thrown in for 'texture and crunch' (don't you just love the Food Network) and setting my alarm for 2:30 pm, I assumed my thinking position and was out like a light.

When the alarm went off in what seemed like five minutes later, I staggered to the bathroom to run my bath. The scent of Dolce Vita permeated the apartment as I lower myself into the tub. There are tea light candles burning on every surface giving the room a soft glow. Relaxation and pampering is the order of the day so once I step out of the bath wrapped in my old robe it's time to treat the scars with silicone gel. I've been using this stuff for about two months and all my wound scars have faded well. Now I won't be embarrassed by the low cut front and back of my dress. Who am I kidding? Nobody will even notice my skin with this dress on! Hell, I could probably rob a bank and the witness description would be something like "it was some woman in this black knockout dress with maybe a gun, officer." If the witness is a woman, I'd get off Scot free.

By 6:30 I'm standing here in all my glory staring at the mirror in wonder. I look classy and attractive. Who'd a thought I'd clean up this well. And then the door bell rang. Here we go.

A man in a chauffeur's hat stood in the hallway with what appeared to be a black cloak over his arm and an envelope in his hand. I've seen him somewhere before but can't really place him. After a short bow he gave me the letter he was holding. It was addressed to "Stephanie Plum" so I _very_ carefully opened the letter. This was the acid test. Was the whole thing a dangerous ruse to get to me or was it my special surprise. And the winner is…

_Ms. Plum,_

_Some time ago I asked you to marry me but you declined. I don't believe that you thought me serious. I was. Now if you will do me the honor of accompanying my manservant to the Princeton gala we can discuss this. I look forward to seeing you in the apparel selected for you. Regardless of tonight's outcome please join me in celebrating the end of a most trying year._

_Alexander Ramos_

Now I remember the driver. He's Stavros, Mr. Ramos' butler or something. I also remember the time I drove Mr. Ramos to a bar so he could sneak cigarettes. He _did_ ask me to marry him but I thought he was kidding. Guess we're going to have a major talk. There are two small problems: he's probably in his mid-seventies by now and he's the godfather of the 'Guns R Us' family. Yeesh! How do I do it?

Stavros held up the cloak for me to slip into, took my elbow and escorted me into the elevator, out the front door into a snowy, blustery evening and finally held the door for me to slide into a warm stretch limousine. Wow!

A man I did not recognize introduced himself as Thanos then served me a flute of champagne and small silver plate of appetizers. He closed my door and sat in the front beside the driver. Talk about your royal treatment. Now let me think again why this is a bad thing…oh, yeah…seventy…Guns R Us! At the risk of sounding like my mother, why me?

As the limo started forward Thanos opened the privacy screen and greeted me saying, "Ms. Plum, we will be arriving at Princeton Hall in an hour or so. Mr. Ramos is anxiously awaiting your arrival. If there is anything you desire while we are _en route_, just touch the button on your right and let me know how I may serve you." The screen closed and the sounds of violins filled the air.

I leaned back against the headrest. It was time to think about what I really want from life and how I'm going to explain it to Alexander Ramos. My first thought was 'Hell, who's going to explain it to me?' _Enough!_ Stephanie, quit shirking the responsibility. It's _your_ life; suck it up! By the time the limousine rolled to a stop in Princeton I had made a decision. I just hope I can manage the fallout.


	12. Chapter 12 - How the Other Half Lives

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 12 – How the Other Half Lives

My feet were rooted to the floor at the ballroom entrance. So this is how the one percent throws a party. I thought it would be balloons and buffet. _But no! _ Thousands of twinkling white lights cascaded from the ceiling. Round tables covered in snow white cloths displayed centerpieces of crystal bowls that held white orchids and lilies interspersed with silver leaves and berries. Each table must seat ten and there were _lots_ of them. An orchestra was playing a waltz and people were already twirling before them on a huge dance floor.

Jeez, I'm _so_ out of my element. Maybe I look right but inside I feel like a little girl playing dress up in my mommy's fancy clothes.

After checking my cloak, Thanos joins me, takes my elbow and directs me to a table at the edge of the floor. Sitting there are beautiful dark-haired people, the men in custom tailored tuxedos and the women in designer gowns and dazzling jewelry. Standing beside an empty chair is none other than Alexander Ramos.

Trying to calm my nerves with a deep breath I offer my hand but since it's trembling, breathing doesn't seem to help much. Hope I left my "deer in headlights look" at home. Unfortunately, my smile stayed home, too. Sad.

"Ms. Plum, Stephanie, I am happy you could join us. I hoped you would like the gifts I sent you with the invitation." He spoke so quietly and with such a heavy accent I had to strain to understand him. I guess he was trying to spare me any embarrassment by not commenting so others could hear.

"Mr. Ramos, you were more than generous in the invitation and gifts. I want to assure you how much I appreciate them. I came here tonight to thank you and ask you to explain what you said in your note." Thankfully I didn't leave my Burg manners at home, too.

"Please, you helped me sneak cigarettes so there's no need to be formal; call me Alexander. When you picked me up in Deal, you took a risk driving me where I wanted to go in spite of my idiot sons and bodyguards. At the time the situation was dangerous for everyone concerned but especially for you, and you still tried to help. I know you were looking out for a friend and he _was _cleared due to your efforts. I had a lot to clean up in my business and family affairs afterwards but I never forgot what you did."

"Mr…Alexander, as you say, I was attempting to help Ranger. I knew he could never have done what they accused him of and later understood why Homer sought to frame him. To tell you the truth I don't think too highly of people who try to kill me. Since Hannibal and Homer _did_ more than once, I hope you understand your 'idiot' sons aren't people I'm anxious to know. By the way, call me Stephanie. Cigarette sneaks _should_ be on a first-name basis. Not only am I surprised you even remember me but that you're still here in this 'sissy' country." With that I broke into a grin and settled down to enjoy the evening just as a waiter filled my glass with red wine.

"Stephanie it is," Alexander answered with a grin of his own. "As a matter of fact, I plan to leave next month for my home in Athens, but let's talk about that after dinner. Right now I am curious what you've been doing this past year. According to the newspapers your life is one adventure after another. I am amazed you survived that gang attack."

"I almost didn't except a good friend bailed me out…with an uzi. I'll be forever grateful."

"Was he really a cross-dresser? You seem to have some unusual friends."

Okay, I rolled my eyes so far back I could see the guy behind me. "'Unusual' is a bit of an understatement. According to my mother, I attract people as crazy as I am."

"Stephanie, where were you going when they grabbed you? Didn't you know there was a contract on your life? Why didn't Ranger and his men protect you?" He was firing questions at me so fast I had to wait until he took a breath to answer him. Guess I couldn't blame him for making bad assumptions. As usual the news reported the sensational event, they never told the rest of the story.

"Ranger did everything he could to protect me. I thought Junkman was dead so I went to my sister's bridal shower. Gang members abducted me just as I was moving her car out of the parking lot. They threw me in the trunk and drove to the playground where Sally found me."

Alexander seemed stunned, "The cross-dresser's name is Sally?"

"His full name is Salvatore. His stage name is Sally. Sally is a rock band headliner, an ace code breaker, my sister's wedding planner, and a costume design genius. But most of all he's one of my best friend who also saved my life."

While we were talking the waiters served a soup. Wait, it's a _cold_ soup? I think its creamy potato. Yummy. As I take my last bite, they whisk it away. This could get ugly if they try that again. Knock off the hovering! All right I'll forgive them because a small serving of cold mousse looking stuff magically appeared. Little round black things were on top along with triangles of toast and tiny pickles. The people at the table oohed and ahhed and dove right in. I don't think it tastes that great; must be some high class dish that I can't appreciate. Wish Ranger was here; he'd explain it to me.

Alexander was watching me. "You don't like the foie gras and caviar, Stephanie?"

I must have turned up my nose. "Is that what this is? I've never had it before. To be honest I've never heard of 'faux gray' before. What is it?"

"It's French for fat liver. A goose or duck is force fed corn until its liver becomes extremely enlarged. Foie gras is considered quite a delicacy."

Ewwwww! That's just barbaric! Poor goose! That's it! I'm not eating another bite until I know what it is. The efficient waiter took the nasty stuff away and replaced it with a champagne glass of sherbet. Huh? Is that all there is? I'll starve to death. Guess they had to save money on the food to pay for the decorations. Even I know orchids are expensive. I hadn't finished my internal rant when a gorgeous plate of lobster and steak appeared before me. Yes! That's more like it!

The rest of the meal was _soooo good_, especially dessert. I'm not sure what you call it, but I'll never look at plain old chocolate cake the same. There were four layers of cake with heavenly mousse-like filling covered in a white whipped frosting and silver candies.

As the waiter poured our coffee, Alexander slightly tilts his head toward the dance floor and looks around the table. All of his guests rose as one and left. Guess it's time for our discussion. Deep breath.

"Stephanie, when I last saw you I said I wanted to marry you." I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his hand. "Let me finish. You are a vibrant young woman and probably think marrying an older man is unappealing. I understand that. At your age I felt the same but there a few things you do not know. Yes, I am wealthy and live on an estate in Greece, but my family cared more for my money than for me. That includes my good-for-nothing sons. My doctors have said I have an incurable disease, something unpronounceable, and I won't last out next year. After great consideration I decided to ask you to accompany me to Athens as my wife. A wife in name only."

He paused to take a sip of water. I noticed he grimaced then took a prescription bottle from his pocket. When he swallowed a capsule, he turned to me and said, "My dear, don't look so sad. I've had a longer life than my enemies. When I meet my maker, I'll have a lot of explaining to do and I'm sure it won't do any good. Every commandment was broken repeatedly and, unfortunately, without much remorse."

Taking my hand in his, he continued speaking in a gentle voice, "Stephanie, you are the only person who accepted me as a person. You wouldn't even take money from me. Not only that, you wouldn't let me smoke in you car. No one's ever treated me in that way. I want to spend my last days giving you everything you desire. Marry me, go to Greece with me and when I'm gone you'll inherit everything I own. What do you say?"

I was speechless. My brain just couldn't grasp the flood of conflicting emotions I felt. I had to answer but didn't know how.

"My dear, you appear to be struggling to find the words. I need to make a phone call so I will leave you to compose yourself. Just know all I want is the truth from you." And he walked away.


	13. Chapter 13 - To Tell the Truth

_AN: Thanks you for staying with me throughout the telling of this story. I truly appreciate all who have reviewed and encouraged me to continue. The final chapters have been delayed due illness and a hospital stay. That said here is the last but two. Auld Lang Syne and an epilogue will follow shortly. Di_

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 13 – To Tell the Truth

Sitting alone staring into my coffee cup I couldn't think. My mind races around going nowhere like a mouse in a maze. The first impulse is to run desperately seeking an escape from the situation. As the fear gives way to somewhat rational thought, I remember the day after Christmas. All I wanted was a little surprise. Like they say, careful what you wish for. Now what do I do? No Mary Lou or Ranger to advise me how to get out of this dilemma. Then I remember the resolutions I made and know what to tell Alexander.

When I look up Alexander is sitting beside me. Once again I'm deep in my head with no thought of my surroundings. At least I'm consistent. He pats my hand, smiles and waits. Here goes!

"What can I say, Alexander? You invited me as your guest, gave me beautiful things and told me you want me to be your wife. I never expected anything like this would ever happen to someone like me – an unsophisticated girl from the Burg known as a screw-up and a disaster. You can't imagine how much it means to me to hear someone say such wonderful things about me. I wish I could accept but it would be wrong of me and unfair to you. You see, there is someone who is very special to me. Unfortunately, it probably won't ever come to anything; but you asked for the truth."

After taking a slow, deep breath I continued, "I'm not very honest with myself most of the time, um, make that all the time. Until recently I've muddled along reacting, not moving forward. The day I received your invitation I had already decided to make changes for _me_ not for my family or friends. Those changes included finally admitting to _myself_ what I _really_ wanted. I've not shared this with anyone else nor did I plan to do so but you asked for the truth so I'm going to be equally honest with you."

I paused to organize my thoughts when he patted my hand again and said, "Stephanie, don't be afraid. All I really want is for you to be happy. You deserve that."

"When I first became a bounty hunter I was completely clueless about the job. My cousin's office manager made an appointment for me to meet the best of the best, Ranger Manoso. He took me under his wing and taught me the fine points of skip tracing despite my stubbornness and unwillingness to learn. He helped me get started and I helped him when he asked. Through the years we have developed a close friendship; he has always been there for me as a friend, a mentor and a guardian angel. Although for a very long time I have wanted to explore a more intimate relationship with him, he has made it crystal clear that his life doesn't lend itself to relationships."

"Alexander, I have finally admitted to myself that I'm in love with him. So you see marrying anyone else would be a disaster for everyone involved. This is why I must decline your offer. I'd appreciate you not sharing our conversation with anyone. Needless to say, this situation is embarrassing and hopeless but there it is."

Damn! I feel like I just laid my soul bare to a man I hardly know. Stephanie, you will _NOT_ cry! Dammit! Too late. I excused myself and hurried to the lady's room praying for control. Maybe I can hide in here until the party's over. Who can I call to rescue me? Lula and Connie have dates. Joe isn't an option. Ranger's working and I _can't _and _won't_ explain this to him. I can't call any of the merry men either. Could I ask Dad to drive all the way to Princeton just to pick up? No! Sally's got a gig. Face it, everyone's celebrating. Can I afford cab fare back to Trenton? Not a chance in hell!

Persistent knocking on the door and Alexander calling my name ended my panic ridden monologue. So much for escaping this nightmare. I wish I could crawl in a hole and go back to the day after Christmas when my secrets were mine alone.

Okay, this is it Plum. Time to suck it up and face the music, this too shall pass, yada, yada, yada. All the pep talks in the world couldn't overcome this feeling of doom. Squaring my shoulders, taking a deep breath and screwing up my pseudo courage, I opened the bathroom door. Alexander, Stavros and Thanos were standing there waiting for me and escort me back to the table. Crap! Now what?

Alexander took my hand and spoke very softly. "Stephanie, I know this has been difficult and painful for you. I have to leave to handle some urgent business but I want you to stay and enjoy the rest of the party. I've asked an old friend to join you and escort you home when you wish to leave. He owes me a favor and, unfortunately, is in much the same situation as you. Be assured I will tell no one about our discussion this evening and I'm sorry it caused you so much distress. Just know that I will do anything I can to help you, my dear, and I hope your New Year turns out better than you suspect." Then he kissed my hand and faded into the crowd.

Huh? What just happened? I'm sitting here alone at a table for ten in Princeton. Oh, wait, to make this evening even more special a man I don't know with a love life as dismal as mine is going to come baby sit me. Guess when I asked for 'something special' I neglected to mention it should be a _happy_ something.

Wracking my brain for a way to leave and get home I was deep in my poor throbbing head when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Guess escape is not an option. Striving for control I turn to greet the man sitting down in the chair beside me. And there he is just as the countdown to midnight begins.


	14. Chapter 14 - Auld Lang Syne

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 14 – Auld Lang Syne

_**Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,  
and never thought upon;  
The flames of Love extinguished,  
and fully past and gone:  
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,  
that loving Breast of thine;  
That thou canst never once reflect  
On Old long syne.**_

_**CHORUS:**_

_**On Old long syne my Jo,  
On Old long syne,  
That thou canst never once reflect,  
On Old long syne.**_

_Robert Burns (1788)_

The shock that must have registered on my face was reflected on his. All the air left my lungs as I struggled to understand why there was no warning. There's always been a warning!

"Ranger?"

"Babe?"

We both just sat there unmoving in stunned silence as a waiter held out a silver tray with a lone envelope in the center. It was addressed to "Ranger and Stephanie." My hand shook as I reached for the letter but Ranger picked it up and said "Allow me, Babe." He laid the open letter on the table between us and we began to read…

_January 1, 2013_

_Ranger and Stephanie,_

_I've followed your careers with interest over the past few years and was amazed that two such intelligent people could work side by side without realizing what all the rest of the world knew._

_I don't know why you caused yourselves and each other so much obvious pain. Could it be you are both afraid of rejection? Since you both are easily the bravest people I know, surely that can't be true. _

_Rather than speculate I trust this will give you the opportunity to explore you feelings for each other. You are special people who are widely admired. Take it from an old man, life is short. Don't you think you've wasted enough time?_

_Stephanie, step out of your comfort zone. Ranger, let down those walls._

_I'm sorry I cannot show you Greece, my dear. Ranger, you should bring her to my home so I can say goodbye._

_Just so you know the bequests I mentioned to you over these past days have been made. Ranger, a copy of my will has been sent to your attorney for you both to review._

_To the son I wish I had and to the woman I would have happily married; be good to each other. _

* Μπορεί στο δρόμο σας να είναι ομαλή και τους θεούς σας προστατεύει τόσο

_Alexander_

Tears ran down my cheeks as I read his letter. What had I ever done to be worthy of such a gift? My heart hurt and my head could not make sense of any of this. When I looked up at Ranger, his eyes showed such wonder -like a child seeing his first snowfall. His controlled, blank face was gone replaced by a myriad of emotions flowing one into the other. I know the same thing was happening to me.

Suddenly we were sharing an excited embrace. Ranger pulled away gently taking my face in his hands and whispered "Happy New Year, Babe."

Laughter bubbled out of me and I threw my arms around his neck. All I could think to say was "Yeah!" It _was_ a happy something special.

When Ranger loosened his arms around me, I stepped back to take a long, appraising look at him. He did the same. He looks delicious in all his personas such as CEO, Special Forces or combat gear; but nothing surpassed the vision of Ranger in a tux! Well, _one_ but there is this prudish law about indecent exposure. Is it hot in here?

"Babe, you look absolutely stunning tonight. You are always beautiful but now you're so much more."

My cheeks felt warm…sigh…blushing again and admitted, "Alexander sent these beautiful clothes to wear this evening. I feel sort of like Cinderella at the ball. Ranger, these are Gucci's! I never thought I would have something as grand as these."

Ranger look into my eyes smiling softly and said, "Stephanie, there are so many things I want to give you: places to visit, different cultures to see, adventures to experience and sensations to enjoy." Then he made a slight bow holding out his hand, "But right now I want very much to dance with you." None of my fantasies included a gentle, loving Ranger so I take his proffered hand in mine and whisper, "Yes, please."

We swirl away to 'Midnight Serenade' amidst the waning crowd. The man dances like he does everything else…expertly. Wrapped in his arms I feel safe, warm, loved and yet sensual. I want 'Someday' to become 'Always.' This is confusing. When did independent, stubborn, messy Stephanie become so dependent on another person's affection? Today, when all but one of my dreams came true. The question is what does Ranger want?

"I want you. As long as I draw breath, I want to see your beautiful smile. Let's go somewhere so we can talk about what we both need from this relationship. Where would you like to go for coffee?"

Great, once again I literally spoke my mind. From now on I'm going to stop being embarrassed about it and chalk it up as my special charm. Wait! Did he say relationship?

"Take me home. I don't care if it's yours or mine, just some quiet place where we can be alone together." This has been _such_ a night…overwhelming in every way.

Ranger bundled me into his Porsche Turbo and sped off to Trenton. Before he grasped the wheel he secured our clasped hands to his thigh and only let go to shift. I'm not sure I could drive at the moment let alone run through the set of gears of a rocket. As usual, he is so much more aware and competent than I will ever be. Wonder if you can get that ability in pill form.

Stephanie, quit dithering! Try to have a coherent thought about what this means. Alexander has remembered me in his will. It's nice of him to do that but will his family be upset? Ranger says he wants a relationship with me. Does that mean dating? Does he want us to be a couple? Too many unanswered questions but the more my brain runs amok the questions multiply and run into each other willy nilly. I'm panicking and don't know how to stop. Only my death grip on Batman's hand keeps me from flying apart. And now we are in the RangeMan underground garage.

Leaning in to give me a soft kiss, Ranger extricated his hand from mine and came round to open my door. Wow! He's never shown me that courtesy before. Maybe things really have changed between us.

He kept his arm around me until we reached his apartment door on the seventh floor. It's a good thing because my legs were really wobbly. In his living room I inhale the scent of Ranger and try to relax. His place did that to me. Ranger's place was masculine, contemporary and Zen. I always feel at peace and safe here; but tonight, or make that morning, I'm nervous. When I sit on the leather sofa, I clasp my hands to keep them still.

Ranger sat beside me, placed two glasses of wine on the coffee table and covered my shaky hands with his. "Babe, why are you nervous?"

"I guess this whole thing has made me afraid of what's to come. You always told me that you didn't do relationships and I believed you. You've never lied to me. What's going to happen, Ranger?" Then the accursed tears start to fall. Great! I'm dressed in beautiful clothes, the world's most gorgeous man is holding my hands, and I'm sniveling like a girl.

"Stephanie, why don't I start with what brought me to the party tonight. I was planning to work the monitors tonight so the guys could celebrate the holiday; but I received a phone call from Alexander telling me he was calling in a favor."

"What did he do for you?

"When I was FTA for Homer's murder, I spoke to him about the conflicting evidence and that I didn't believe Homer was dead. Alexander Ramos and I go back a ways; when I helped the DEA identify the players in New Jersey, I infiltrated his organization looking for a connection to the narcotics shipments. As I told you before, he didn't dabble in drugs and that's what I reported to the DEA. During that time I got to know him pretty well and we developed a sort of wary friendship. From time to time investigations led me into his world and he cooperated as much as he could justify."

"As you know, I was in Deal when you first picked him up outside his house. After you left I called him and asked him to stay away from you. He agreed. Then you went back to Deal and picked him up again. Needless to say, I called him again and accused him on going back on his agreement. We settled the matter; but he told me that one day he would expect a favor in return. So a couple of days ago he called in his marker."

"Ranger, did you say a _couple_ of days ago? Not tonight?"

"No, he asked me to meet him at his home for lunch to talk over some new development. When I got there we discussed his illness, his business, his family and his impending trip home. During the conversation he asked me to come to the party and escort his great niece who was coming over from Greece for New Years. She was going to travel back to Athens with him next week but he didn't think he would be up to staying the whole evening. I asked him why one of his men couldn't handle it. He told he was worried about one of his 'competitors' getting to her so needed my skills to protect her. I couldn't refuse, Babe. We left it that he would call if he needed me. Alexander called me yesterday morning."

"But I don't understand. How did he know what my answer would be? What did he mean by the 'bequests' mentioned in his note?"

"I don't know, Babe. Judging from his note he has been following your life for a long time. Your values are pretty evident to the keen observer. That's why I couldn't understand your mother's and Morelli's treatment of you. If someone outside could see your many wonderful qualities, why couldn't they?"

"Ranger, thank you for saying such things; but I told Alexander that I wasn't really all he made me out to be. I'm pretty much a confused, clumsy disaster most of the time so this whole evening has been way out of my comfort zone."

"Steph, that's your mother and Morelli talking. I'll bet you father and grandma don't say those things to you."

"Noooo, they don't. They stand by and support me."

"That's because they just want to love you not control you. I know Mrs. Plum and Morelli tried to beat the spark, the spirit out of you but you're strong. They've failed. That is one of the many reasons I love you."

I just shook my head in disbelief. Time to lighten the mood. "So, Batman, what did he mean by bequests?"

"When I was having lunch with him, I asked him where he acquired a certain _objets d'art_. He regaled me with a few tales of his treasures. I mentioned he had very eclectic tastes so he said he would bequeath them to me at his death. That's not something I'm comfortable with so I told him he should leave them to his family. After that he regaled me with stories of his 'idiot" family. What did he want you to have?"

How to explain? "He asked me to marry him in name only, go back home with him and when he passed I would inherit everything. I also wondered about his family and he mentioned his 'idiot' sons. So I guess I don't know what he's talking about."

"I'll call my attorney tomorrow to see if he received anything from Alexander."

Nature was screaming at me so I excused myself and walked briskly into his bathroom. His is elegant and _large_; mine is hideous and tiny. My hair and face suffered badly from my crying jags so I tried to repair what I could. My little Gucci bag didn't have room for all my tools so the repair was minimal at best. Oh well. Unfortunately, he's seen me in worse condition…often.

On returning to the sofa I saw a fresh glass of wine. Must have drunk the first one. Not good. I don't tolerate liquor very well and there was a different type drink, wine or champagne, all during dinner…uh the champagne in the limo, the Crystal at midnight…I may have had a tad too much. Ranger was leaning back on the sofa having shed his coat and tie…and his hair was loose. Be still my hormones!

He patted the cushion next to him and said, "Come sit down, Babe. Do you have any other questions?"

"Uh, no, I can't think of any." Liar! I can think of thousands but I'm too afraid to ask them.

"All right then, I would like to talk about us and where we can go from here."

"Uh oh."

_* (May your road be smooth and the gods protect you both.)_


	15. Chapter 15 - The First Day

AFTER CHRISTMAS

By

DimariS

Chapter 15 – The First Day…

After a deep breath Ranger begins what seems to be a well-rehearsed speech. "Babe, Alexander was right. I haven't been honest with either you or myself about what I feel or want. After some of the things I've said it doesn't surprise me that you're cautious talking about this. Truthfully, until a short while ago my contractual obligations to several government agencies made any personal relationships impossible. Add to that I didn't think I was good enough for you…"

Shaking my head I started to interrupt him "But Ranger…"

He raised his hand to stop me mid-sentence, "Stephanie, I was ordered to do things I can't stand to remember. You deserve someone who's a better man than me; whose past isn't filled with death and destruction. Babe, I've killed scores of people and eradicated villages all over the world. People are terrified of me and rightly so. After completing a mission I have to keep myself confined until some of my humanity returns. I admit sometimes I break into your apartment when I first return because you center me, calm me. Somehow knowing I could never hurt you physically let's me convince myself it's all right to see you before I lock myself away."

"When I told you I wasn't relationship material that's what I meant. I'm not, but that doesn't stop me from wanting one so badly I can't stay away from you. My men know I'm torn between wanting to be with you always and wanting to step aside. They've seen and fought with the monster I can become; know what I'm capable of and still trust me to protect you. I love you, Babe, and I want to have everything with you but I don't trust _myself_."

Ranger stops, waiting for me to respond. I have to be as truthful with him, but first I need a moment that I don't have to compose my thoughts. Like him I take a deep, shaky breath and begin. "When I was in college some friends and I volunteered at the local VA hospital. I met several soldiers who suffered from PTSD and they told me they were damaged because of horrible things they had to do in the service of their country. Until recently I thought and I told _them_ that what they were asked to do was for the greater good. I know I was naïve, ignorant and idealistic. But I _do_ believe who a person is doesn't change because they're forced to do things against their intrinsic beliefs and values. Ranger, you are the most honorable person I know and I trust you with my life."

He begins speaking, "Babe, you don't know…" and I raise my hand to stop him just as he had done to me. "It's my turn now. Yes, I _do_ know. I've always trusted you from the night I called you to rescue me when Joe handcuffed me to the shower rod."

"This is difficult because I'm really not open about my feelings; but, Ranger, I trust you and love you. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives in whatever way you want me. Because of my dysfunctional relationships I told myself I was terrified to remarry or have children. After the Dick and then Mom's harping on Joe and the perfect Burg life, the thought was just too scary. With you the thought wasn't terrible, but I knew it wouldn't ever happen based on the things you said."

"Stephanie, I want so many things with you…I _want it all!_ I need you always, in every way. Just a minute…" and he got up to walk into his bedroom. Now what?

He returned, sat beside me and pulled me into his lap. "A couple of years ago when I started breaking into your apartment to watch you sleep I bought this. Afterward I still kept pushing you back to Morelli. I just thought he could give you the life you deserved; but when I slept I would dream of putting this on your finger then holding a baby girl with your curly hair and beautiful blue eyes."

He opens his hand. Nestled there was a navy blue box that held the most incredible ring. It was simple but stunning. A large diamond solitaire set in, I guess, platinum. Breathtaking! "Ranger, you've had this for two years? What if I had married Joe?"

He hugs me and whispers, "It would stay in my safe to always remind me of what I lost and didn't deserve. Babe, will you marry me? Will you let me love you? Will you make a family with me? Please say 'yes' and I'll do anything to make you happy."

My mind couldn't seem to grasp that he was offering me everything I ever wanted. I was dumbstruck, but Ranger shifted me on his lap. _He was starting to stand. NO! "Ranger…Carlos! Yes, _I want those things, too! With you! I'm sorry, it's just I _never_ thought you could feel the same."

Suddenly, he stands with me in his arms and pulls me tight against his chest. When my feet hit the floor, he takes my left hand and slowly slides the ring on my finger. I look at him through my lowered lashes and murmur, "Ranger, is it too soon to start making a family?"

His face lit up with a huge smile, must have been a zillion watts, and lifts me in his arms. "It's Carlos, Babe, and it is past time. I've waited years for this."

Every fiber of my being begins to vibrate as my fiancé, my personal Cuban Sex God, lowers me to stand in front of him. We each undress the other like we were unwrapping a precious gift…slowly exploring every part as it comes into view. His dark skin is so exotic compared to mine. Even his scars couldn't detract from his natural beauty and I kiss every one so he knows how I feel.

Then a firestorm of want overtakes us both. I need to feel joined with him, mated to him. Our emotional connection craves the physical oneness. When he thrusts inside me, I finally feel whole. This was what, no who, I was missing. All my life I thought I knew what love was; but had no understanding of its fullness, its completeness, a merging one into the other. We are no longer the tormented man or the inadequate woman, Batman or Wonder Woman, Ranger or Babe, Carlos or Stephanie; but a wonderful amalgam of the two.

_**"Estefanía**__**, eres **__**mi alma gemela,**____**y**____**te adoro**__**. **__**Nunca ha**____**sido así**____**para mí.**____**Prométeme**____**ahora podemos**____**estar juntos**____**así por**____**siempre**__**"**__. _("Sweetheart, you are my soul mate, and I adore you. It has never been like this for me. Promise me now we can be together like this for always.")

As Carlos utters those words, I don't understand the language but somehow know their meaning. "Yes, for always."

He gives me a tender kiss and we fall into a peaceful sleep our bodies intertwined. I feel safe and protected and, above all, home.

My man, yes he's all mine, spent the next few hours showing me just how much he loved and wanted me. There were more than a few times I took the reins. Just for a change of pace, you know. I've been waiting years, too, to be free to touch his body. I don't know if we started our family but it wasn't for lack of trying!

When we surface for air and food, Ella brings Texas caviar, mimosas, coffee, salmon and asparagus omelets, and something called Cuban Opera Cake. Wow! Chocolate, coffee and rum…what's not to love! Think it just replaced birthday cake on my favorites list. I could ask Ella to teach me how to make it but maybe I should start with something simpler like chocolate pudding…the instant kind.

Over brunch, or whatever, we discussed what we wanted to do about the wedding. I told Carlos I didn't care as long as it wasn't held in the Burg. So we decided on his family's church in Newark. After a pause to savor Ella's delicious meal I ventured a question about post-wedding plans. "Are we going somewhere after the ceremony?" Hell, I didn't know what he wanted to do or where or how long. Drat, babbling again.

"Babe, I thought we might take a month or so to travel…maybe the Cote d'Azur or Costa del Sol or Tahiti. What do you think?"

"Any of those places sound wonderful as long as you're with me; but first can we go to Greece. I want to say 'good-bye' to Alexander. Where we are today is due to him. Someday, if we have a son, I would like to name him Alejandro. What do you think?"

"I think he would be pleased. Athens it is. We'll call him tomorrow after we meet with our attorney. It's going to be a long meeting, Babe, because there are a few documents he will have to draw up for us. Wills and such. Then we need to review Alexander's will and make decisions on its contents."

"Batman, don't make the appointment with your attorney too early. I hope to have a very late and exhausting evening."

He grins and lifts my chin to look into my eyes. "Of course, _mi novia_, we can see him after our run tomorrow at 0600."

I begin to sputter as he laughs, "Babe, it is January 2nd, you know." Crap!

When 2013 ends I'll be Mrs. Ricardo Carlos Manoso. Trenton will again be ice cold. Dad and Grandma will be ecstatic. Who knows how Mom will react. RangeMan and the Merry Men will be my safe haven. Carlos and I will have a _huge_ Christmas tree with all the trimmings. And the eggnog will flow…

_El Fin_

A/N: Can't believe how long it has taken to finish this tale. I want to thank all the wonderful reviewers who gave me so much support and encouragement. I hope your year doesn't disappoint. Di


End file.
